Hate and Love
by Viva La Zekiel
Summary: /Im not so good at summaries/ /ONESHOT/ /Thirteen x Tenain/ /Complete/ “I hate him. I hate him with the passion it takes to kill. The passion it takes to survive. I hate him, with all my heart.” /Its more of a poem, really/


I opened my eyes, only to be faced with the cold, hard stare of silver before me, haunting, painful. I hate him. I hate him with the passion it takes to kill. The passion it takes to survive. I hate him, with all my heart. 

He loves me. At least, he says he does.

I want to believe it. I want to loose myself, become a mindless object of his desires. I want to die, because if im dead I wont feel this pain. I feel his hand against my thigh, and I lower my gaze, unable to make out what he is saying to me. He looks worried. It's just a lie, though, and my eyes refuse to meet his luring ones.

If I look at them, im scared I might break. I will shatter into thousands of beautiful bloody glass shards, and no one will be able to pick up the pieces. No one will fix me, I will be far to broken. 

I can clearly understand him now, his voice is deep, hypnotic. I feel like a moth to the flames, as my eyes slowly meet his cold, silver ones. "You have to eat." He said sternly, as my insides twist with disgust. 

Why would I eat? I wish for nothing more then death…why would I prolong this hell on earth by eating? 

He doesn't expect me to respond. I never do. I never fight back anymore…its all useless, im weak, worthless to everyone but him. He says he loves me, and how can I think otherwise, when he's the only one who looks at me like that. The only one how touches me like he does. He makes me feel, sorrow, anger, pain, agony… He makes me feel alive, like im something that im not. Like im _human_. So weak, so worthless…so loved…I feel when im around him, and to know this, tears me up.

When I look away from him, his nails dig into my thigh, but I make sure that I show no pain. "Eat. Now. If you do not, I will shove it down your throat." He warns, but I know better. He will not force me to eat. He never has. I glance down at the bowel of peeled oranges in front of me, my eyes glazed over and dull. 

He knows me better then I wish he did. My favorite food…oranges…I would not eat them, and when he saw that look in my eyes, he grew angry. 

I did not flinch as the bowel was swiped out of my gaze. He had thrown it off the table with one fluid movement, and I could feel his hand in my hair. It all happened very fast, I was thrown to the ground like so many other times before this…my eyes still glazed. 

He stood over me, his breathing ragged. I did not move. I didn't even wince as blood dripped onto the floor. My hair, my head, it was soaked with blood again. His breathing got louder and I knew he was fighting to control his anger. 

He left me, laying on the floor, bloody, but not completely broken.

I knew that it was better not to move. When he came back, he would be calmed down, and perhaps he would take pity on my pathetic form, and just leave me with a sneer before he went to sleep. Worthless and weak as I seemed laying on the ground, my eyes showed no reflection of my emotions. 

This, this was love? 

I do not understand that word…love. It held such value to everyone else…but it just rolled on his tongue when he was with me. It was like water threw cloth, so easily he told me that he loved me. 

I lay there for what seemed like hours, days, years even…the blood was dried, I was sickened by it, but still, I did not move. I feel something whipping the blood away from my face with a warm, wet cloth, but my eyes stayed caged forward. Did I dare see who it was? No…I knew who it was. He watched me with a small smile, but, it was not one of apologies. He does not regret doing what he does to me. I know he does now…because he's always pleased with himself afterwards. 

My eyes closed, as he whispers that he loves me, one last time. He is being gentle with me now. His touch, soft, caring. I know it's a lie, but somehow, I am drawn into it. _Like a moth to the flames_. His voice is luring, his eyes enticing, his touch flawless. How can I be expected to stay away? How can I, weak, worthless, be expected to stray away from this dangerous beauty? I try not to, I really do. 

But, I can't get him out of my thoughts. He knows im trapped. He knows that I can't live without him. 

Tenain.

I opened my eyes, only to be faced with the cold, hard stare of silver before me, haunting, painful. I love him. I love him with the passion it takes to kill. The passion it takes to survive. I love him, with all my heart.


End file.
